Tenipuri Agents: Rising Rookie
by Tamashi.no.Koe
Summary: Saeki Kojiroh, sporty and smart, fresh out of college. Fuji Syusuke, charismatic and clever, one of the Network since his university days. Old friends and rivals come together as comrades in a new generation of elite secret agents.
1. Encounter

**TENIPURI AGENTS: RISING ROOKIE**

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_Chapter One -** Encounter**_

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Saeki flipped the carton into the trash can with indifferent accuracy. He was sorry to see it go; that brand of apple juice was his favourite.

Most people asked, at least once in their lives, why he loved apple juice above all other drinks. This was as inane as questions went, in his opinion. Did he really need a reason to like apple juice? Mostly he responded by questioning their fondness for beer or red wine or Ponta.

Smacking his lips and savouring the last of the fruity sweetness in his mouth, the young man continued his way down the road towards the small convenient store at the corner of the block. He was in no hurry; it wasn't like there was anywhere important he needed to be anytime soon. Having just barely graduated from college, he was still looking for a job. Luck hadn't been on his side so far. There weren't many posts that welcomed a very green Creative Writing major from one of those average, nothing-special colleges.

He didn't worry about his lack of income. One more week of looking through newspapers and job finding websites, and he'd forget about using his degree and just go to the local community center to inquire if they needed any new tennis coaches. He wasn't elite, true, but then it didn't take a tensai like Fuji or a hyperactive enthusiast like Kentaro to do the job. Most of those kids didn't take the lessons seriously anyway.

Humming pleasantly and enjoying the wind ruffling his black and white hair, he reached the store and stepped inside at the tinkling of a small bell that announced his arrival.

"Morning," he greeted the girl behind the counter before heading off to the drinks section. His father had been bemoaning the lack of coffee in the house all morning, and Saeki found it rather harder to concentrate on his job hunting while the man stomped around like a bear with a headache.

God alone knew why the guy didn't just go and get some coffee from this store less than two blocks away, instead of complaining about it.

Dropping his navy blue sports bag--his makeshift shopping basket--onto the floor beside him, he turned to the jars of concentrated instant coffee on display. The brand he normally got was sold out. He had never tried any of the others before.

_Coffee A, coffee B, names, names, names... Is there really even a difference?_

Soon, while comparing the prices and contents of two large bottles of brown powder, he sensed that there was someone beside him. Looking up, he saw a man, middle aged with sunglasses and a black baseball cap on, picking through the powdered milk adjacent to the coffee shelf. To his amusement, he found that the man had a sports bag identical to his own, and had placed it right next to his. _Strange_, he thought idly,_ I thought that kind of bag went out of fashion years ago_. It was one of the things he had kept from his high school days. The bag he used to carry his tennis rackets around.

_I wonder if any of the others kept theirs? _

He could picture, without having to look, the large scribbling of words sprawled on one corner of the bag's rough fabric. _Saeki Kojiroh, Rokkaku High._ It was a mark of an unforgettable part of his past, which everyone else seemed to have forgotten, ironically. The old gang had split up and gone their separate ways when they had all graduated from high school.

He hadn't seen anyone from the tennis circle in years.

Finally, the man seemed to have finished with the milk, and not found anything satisfactory, left. Having chosen a new brand of coffee, Saeki picked up his bag and prepared to pay for it at the counter. Grasping the dark blue strap, he heaved--and frowned. When he had left home, he had emptied that bag. Now it felt as heavy as though a couple of bricks had been put into it.

Carefully setting down the glass jar in his hand, he unzipped the bag, peered inside and gave a sharp intake of breath.

Stacks of banknotes, all worth 1000 yen, were piled neatly within.

Obviously enough, this wasn't his. Saeki's mind raced, and flashed back on the man from before, their two identical sports bags. _It's his_, Saeki concluded. _He mixed up our bags and took mine instead_. Swiftly zipping it up again, he strode hurriedly out of the store, abandoning the coffee; he would come back for it later. Once out on the street, he scanned the area carefully, searching for that distinctive baseball cap. The man couldn't have gone too far yet.

In the distance, he thought he saw a patch of black bobbing along the sidewalk. He broke out into a run. "Hey!" he yelled. "You've got the wrong bag!"

But the man didn't appear to have heard, and didn't stop. Saeki gave chase for another few blocks before slowing--he'd lost sight of his quarry. Breathing evenly--his tennis training had not stopped its effects on his body yet--he looked around in mild confusion. How could he have missed the man? The guy had been walking while he, Saeki, had been running full out. But the baseball cap and owner of the bag in his hand was nowhere to be seen.

_Damn_. There was so much cash in this bag. It wasn't something he could ignore. He had to find that man.

To his right was a small alleyway which was pretty much the only place (that he could see) where the guy might have disappeared into. Now, normally he would have thought at once that entering into such a dark and lonely place with a small fortune in tow wasn't really a hot idea, and would have abstained. But this time he could come up with no other way to return the bag--it wasn't like he knew enough about the owner to track him down by other means--and he did want his own back.

Marching boldly into the alley, hanging loosely on to the black strap of his burden as though it were of no real importance, he moved quickly along the straight, narrow path between two houses. They had probably been neglected for quite a while, judging by the grime on the windows.

On and on he went, but there was no sign of the man, or anyone else, for that matter. The place seemed totally deserted. Finally, he hit a dead end. His brows furrowed in a frown as he glanced around and found no further alley beyond that. Just a blank, dirty brick wall crumbling with age. A small chunk of red brick detached from the wall at that moment, making him jump.

Something about this alley didn't make him feel quite comfortable. He was starting to wish he had never come into it, especially not with the bag he now clutched, unconsciously, slightly harder.

A shadow.

Saeki tensed. He had been wrong; the houses were not empty. Someone had left one of the windows a second ago.

A second shadow.

In the other house! There were people on both sides of the alley. He held the bag closer to his body.

The alley was about four feet wide. At least seven meters of concrete towered on either side of him. And behind, a solid wall. No way out, except for the way he had come in.

His feet were moving as his heart began pounding, and his mind raced, sending pure chemical messages to the rest of his body as he picked up speed, empowered by adrenaline. He had to get out there, he knew it. He had to get out, and fast, or something bad would happen. Saeki knew this, the gut feeling rebuking him strongly for putting himself in such a position.

Taking off at a sprint, he hurdled for the main road, as a small pinprick of light, indicating the end of the alley came into view.

_Almost there, almost there_...

He relaxed a little; he would be out in the open in ten seconds. Everything would be fine. He would drop off this infernal bag at the police station and be done with it. Never would he have to set eyes on it again and remember the trouble it had caused.

Everything would be--

_Crash!_

He had spoken too soon. His flying footsteps screeched to a halt as a shower of glass cascaded down onto his escape route, right in front of him. Instinctively, he turned back, but found his path littered with shrapnel there as well.

He was trapped.

Saeki drew the bag, the only bulky item he had with him, closer, clutching the root of the long shoulder strap tightly, ready to throw, hit or block as two figures landed on either side of him. He looked around wildly, desperately, in a last ditch attempt to run.

"There's no way out," the first figure spoke, in a flat, monotone of a voice. "The bag, E-eight-four-one."

_E-eight-four-one? _Should that mean something to him? Did that mean anything to him? He couldn't think, he couldn't reason...

And that was _before_ the assailant drew out his gun.

"Hold it!" Saeki's voice rang out, unnaturally high. "Hold on! I'm not who you think you are. I don't know anything about this E-eight-four-one--"

"Save it," the second figure spat. "Redstab doesn't think highly of our intelligence, true, but we aren't quite so stupid as he assumes. We followed you from the meeting place, _E-eight-four-one_. We've made no mistake."

_Redstab? Meeting place? What--? _Backed against the wall, Saeki looked warily from one newcomer to the other. It was then he noticed that these people weren't dressed at all like secret agents or secret police (for that was what they could only be, going by code names like E-eight-four-one and Redstab). In fact, they hadn't even hidden their faces or changed their voices. The man, blocking him from the road had on a tight black T-shirt and stretchy jeans, a faded blue cap worn backwards on his spiky brown hair. The woman, on Saeki's other side, was wearing a simple blouse and a fitting cotton bottom. Black hair. Matching black eyes.

"The bag," the man repeated again, sounding bored, yet with an underlying intensity in his voice. He leveled his gun to Saeki's chest. "That money won't buy you a life. And your one's not going to be around a lot longer, if you don't hand the bag over now."

Saeki's mind was spinning as he fought to clear his panic. _He's not going to just let me go_. Maybe he had read too many mystery novels and seen too many action flicks, but he knew that in every scenario in which the criminals showed their faces, the people they made contact with always ended up dead. No body wanted to be tracked down, especially if they walked around with a gun. The fact that these two had not bothered to disguise themselves was omnious.

And yet the man hadn't opened fire. Saeki knew this could hardly be out of benevolence. But then, it registered that he was holding the bag in front of him, over his heart.

_There's something in here that they don't want to hurt. _

Whatever _that_ was, besides a whole lot of money, was anybody's guess, but Saeki didn't think about that. This was the loophole in what would have otherwise been a hopeless case. His only hope of survival. He now focused his eyes intently, zeroing in on all the details of the alley--the height of the walls, the position of the windows, the distance to the road, where cars zoomed by...and the long, slim metal bar behind his foot, at the base of the wall he had his back against.

_There!_

"The bag," the man insisted once more, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman take out a six-inch knife.

Saeki laughed awkwardly. "I can't say this means too much to me anyway. I don't even know what's inside, besides a bit of cash. Guess I'll let you have it, then."

Faint surprise registered in the man's expression, and had not yet died away when Saeki suddenly launched the item this couple seemed to want so much at the gun wielder, momentarily blinding his eyesight.

_Now!_

In one smooth movement, Saeki grabbed the metal rod at his feet and turned to face the woman, who had her blade poised. He struck, swiping it out of her hand with a hit from the side which landed heavily on her hand, and hearing her yelp, he whipped around to see the man fumbling with the bag, too preoccupied to protect himself or his weapon when a second later, the rod slammed onto his wrist, sending the gun spinning neatly into the air and through one of the broken windows.

Sensing motion behind him, the kendo practicer didn't hesitate in thrusting the end of the pole backwards and felt it connect with the woman's stomach. After another such jab into the chest of the man, knocking the air out of his lungs, Saeki dropped the rod and barreled away from them, racing for the growing light, and the sound of cars.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Gunfire erupted from the couple he had just left on the ground. Apparently they hadn't just had one firearm between the two of them. Three successive shots were fired rapidly. The first two missed completely, but the third grazed Saeki's arm as he fled.

_No, no, no!_

The loud noises and searing pain of bloody, torn muscles sent his brain into overdrive. The exit was so close, yet so far away. Too far away. He was going to be shot. In the back, with no chance of dodging. The next one bullet would not be off target. He was going to die and--

"Hold your fire!"

Saeki kept running, hopeful yet terrified that at any moment, the command would come and the shooting would resume. Then--

"Saeki!"

_Saeki? That's...that's me, isn't it...?_ Bewilderedness added on to the blinding fear.

And miraculously--or nightmarishly, as of that moment--his body slowed, and he stopped, though in the years to come, he could never think for the life of him why he had done it.

"Saeki," the voice called out again, echoing in the alley and nearing him even as he turned, shaking and weak-kneed.

He looked into his savior's face, and his lips parted in a gasp of stunned recognition. "Kurobane?"

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**Author's Note: Now, eventually someone's going to bring it to my attention that Fuji doesn't make an appearance in this chapter. Yeah...sorry about that. But I hope you understand that since Fuji was in the Network first, and becasue of the nature of his post, he doesn't really run around attacking people or saving them. Not all the time, anyway. I hope you'll be patient. He'll come out as soon as I can work the plot. I'm going full speed, please understand. **


	2. Rookie

**TENIPURI AGENTS: RISING ROOKIE**

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_Chapter Two **- Rookie**_

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The traffic sped by behind them as the two former schoolmates and teammates of Rokkaku stared at each other. Saeki took in the visage of his old friend joyfully: the gravity defying dark hair, the brash saunter. In their tennis days, it had been this young man who had by unspoken consent, led the team even though Kentaro had been the official captain, and Saeki vice-captain.

"Oi, Bane! Are you _nuts_?" the brunette Saeki had just immobilized grunted, wheezing and trying to catch his breath. "E-eight-four-one is a Combat! You _want_ to get killed?"

"You keep forgetting I'm a Combat now, too," Kurobane answered, annoyed. "And this isn't E-eight-four-one."

"He picked up the load from one of _their_ people," the woman coughed, struggling to stand. "We followed him from the contact point! Now get him, _Combat_, before he gets you."

"I'm saying, _this isn't E-eight-four-one_," Kuroband repeated brazenly. "Besides, you were only supposed to follow him, _Recon-raider_. No confrontation, remember? You're probably lucky you got the wrong guy; you two wouldn't have stood a chance against E-eight-four-one."

The woman sniffed. " He was in a deadend alley. It was the perfect chance. And Shishido's going to be a Combat too, soon."

"Yeah," Kurobane agreed, before deadpanning, "and he just got nailed by some untrained civilian."

Saeki watched this exchange with a sort of confused indignation. _Who _were these people and _why _had they randomly attacked him? He looked more closely at the two disgruntled assultants. The man had taken off his cap and was shaking out longish brown hair that had previously been hidden, showing only the short bangs. Saeki thought he seemed familiar.

"Anyway, this isn't the time!" Replacing his cap, said man glared at Kurobane. "Deal with him, man! If he's some untrained civilian as you say, why would he take up the load for no reason?"

"If he _wasn't_ a civilian, say if he was E-eight-four-one, he wouldn't be standing here listen to us chat," Kurobane countered. "Besides, I know his files. He's clean. No relation to Redstab or anything like that. And E-eight-four-one would have killed you, not beat you up with a stick."

Shishido, as they called him, scowled.

_Shishido... _"Hey," Saeki suddenly spoke out, making all three of the others stare at him. "Are you Shishido Ryou? Used to go to Hyotei?"

The guy in question recoiled. "Heck, Bane, not only you got his files, he's got ours too! What the--"

"He used to be my teammate on Rokkaku," Kurobane groaned, rolling his eyes. Saeki thought he saw a hint of the patented look his friend used to show when David made one of his puns.

Shishido appeared taken aback, but before he could say anything more, he frowned, reached into a pocket and took out a small black device Saeki could't see clearly. "Yeah? Leave the crying and hugging for later. We've got to get out of here. Redstab agents on the way, according to Choutarou. Real ones."

At once, Kurobane dropped his casual demeanor. Alert, his eyes darting, he grabbed Saeki's arm and dragged him forwards. In his other arm, he snatched up the bag that had caused all the mayhem. "Let's go back through the tunnel, then."

Shishido and the woman started to leave before eyeing Saeki, alarmed. "What the hell are you doing, Bane? You can't take him with us! Civilian, yeah?"

"Yeah, one with a Hunter on his back now. He could identify Redstab's contact; they're not going to just let him be."

Shishido growled low, but made no further objection. Saeki himself didn't know whether to protest or not. What was a Hunter and how long was he expected to be on the run before the guy got off his back? For now, he allowed Kurobane to lead him back down the alley. He might as well trust him, seeing as there didn't seem to be that many alternatives. Halfway down the gap between houses, Shishido suddenly leapt and latched onto one of the upper window sills, holding on briefly by one hand to push the wooden frame up. Then, he kicked at the building's outer wall and rolled inside with a somersault, followed by the woman. Kurobane let go of Saeki to do the same and poked his head out again. "Jump up and I'll pull--oh."

He got out of the way was Saeki came through the window wrapped up in a tight ball.

"This way," he said and hurried out of the room they had landed in and into the hallway of the house. Striding up to what to all appearances was a spare closet, he opened the doors and stepped inside. "Get in," he ordered Saeki.

Dubiously, Saeki scrambled into the rather small closet.

"Now close the door."

Startled, he hesitated for a moment before complying. In his mind sprang a quote he had read somewhere...something about only fools shut themselves up in wardrobes...

It was dark inside the closet, until Kurobane somehow slid open a partition at the back of it, letting in pale light.

"Go down the ladder. Quickly."

Awkwardly the two changed positions until Saeki found himself at the top of a long ladder leading downwards, possibly underground, connecting onto a tunnel. He lowered himself onto it and began to climb, nearly missing being kicked in the head by Kurobane, who had followed in him descent after closing up the passage entrance. "When you get to the bottom, go into the tunnel. Run."

Wincing as the injured muscles in his arm were forced to contract--jumping into the house had been bad enough; but climbing this ladder drew out the pain in continuous bursts--Saeki grunted an affirmative. On reaching the last few rungs, he hopped off the ladder and broke into a jog down the long, earthy tunnel lit regularly but sporadically by small yellow lamps. The ground, the walls and the ceiling had the same texture of cold, packed dirt, such that his shoes left faint imprints as he ran. Almost immediately afterwards, he heard the sound of Kurobane's nearly noiseless footsteps, and wondered at the change from their school days, where he distinctly recalled their coach grumbling at his teammate for treading too loudly.

The journey seemed endless. Endless yellowish light, endless yellowish dirt underfoot. Saeki didn't bother to check how far they'd come or how long they'd been going at full speed. Blood pounded in his veins, his capable heart keeping oxygen flowing steady to his heated limbs. But after a while he became aware that he was slowing, getting dizzy, though he knew he could normally go on for much longer than this...

"You've lost some blood." Kurobane drew level with him, and Saeki was mortified to see the other wasn't even breathing deeply (_and_ he was carrying a heavy bag), while he himself was beginning to pant. "Focus, Sae. Hang in there for a little while more and we'll get a Medic to look at your wound."

"Yeah...would be good..." Saeki gasped out.

As Kurobane promised, soon they had turned a corner and were faced with a brighter glow of white from above. And another ladder.

Saeki grimaced.

Kurobane grinned in amusement, earning a glare from his friend who made a mental note to get back at the Combat, whatever that was. "One of your people shot me. Stop laughing."

"Oh, but it's funny, _fuku-buchou _Saeki. And laughing is a semi-voluntary reaction to funny stimulus, regardless of origin and situation," Kurobane intoned knowingly, drawing yet another strange look from his former schoolmate.

"Took vocab classes?"

"Nope. I just hang around the right people."

Saeki privately doubted this; people like Shishido hardly went around spouting elegant rhetoric. But at that moment someone called out from over their heads. "Are you two coming up here or not? I thought your friend needed a Medic?"

"That's why he's so slow," Kurobane hollered back.

Sighing, Saeki at last braced himself to mount the ladder, grinding his teeth as he pulled himself up, inch by excrutiating inch. As he gained altitude, the light got stronger, until he was bathed in enough of it to dazzle his eyes. He blinked, trying to adjust.

The brightness wasn't all he had to get used to.

"Bane? Injured? Is it true? Oh, how could that have_ happened_? He's such an experienced Combat--"

"Oishi--_Oishi_! Bane_ is not injured_! Get that through your thick skull! It's his friend we picked up during the mission..."

"Uh..." Saeki peered out of the trapdoor to what apparently was a small office room. The woman from earlier and another man turned to glance at him.

"BLOOD!"

Saeki nearly fell off the ladder as the horrified exclamation hit his ears, marginally harder than the bullet which had drawn that blood. The next moment someone was boosting his elbow rather roughly. He fended off the person and dragged himself onto the cream tiled floor, fighting to keep the room from spinning from the impact of pain. "Um...easy on the arm...?"

"I'm _so_ sorry!" A concerned individual with short black hair at once set to work on his messy bicep.

"Oishi?" Saeki inquired, jolted out of his fuzziness. "Oishi from Seigaku? Weren't you Fuji's teammate?"

"Oh, that was years ago, but yes, I was..." Oishi mumbled distractedly, dabbing away at the wound. "What happened here? It looks exactly like you got shot. Or grazed by the bullet, anyway."

"I _was_ shot," Saeki informed him. "Either it was Shishido or..." He stared pointedly at the woman who was watching the procedure, impassive.

She considered him, then shrugged. "Seeing as you know so much already...Kaze," she supplied. "And I was the one who hit you. You knocked Shishido's gun into the other house, remember?"

Oishi looked mildly disconcerted at this.

"The _other_ house," Kurobane told him, as though reading the former Seigaku student's worries. "Not the one leading to our exit. In fact I think it's better this way. Redstab is going to have that area searched regardless of not catching us; the gun should mislead them."

"But_ still_..." What felt like a bucketfull of violently stinging disinfectant swamped Saeki's arm, making him yelp. "Oh, _sorry_."

Saeki grumbled unhappily about unjustified retaliation for crimes commited in ignorance.

"Well, I need to go report to the Head Combat," Kurobane announced, dusting his hands off. "Keep an eye on him, ok, Kaze?" He jerked his head towards Saeki. "Kawamura will want to see him in person."

Nodding, Kaze reached for a water bottle on a nearby desk. Ignoring Saeki and Oishi, she sipped, leaning against the wall. The room filled with silence. Saeki, unable to move much as Oishi administered to him, observed the bit of the place he could see, his view obscured by the chair sitting squarely in front of him. "Oishi?"

"Hm?"

"Where are we?"

Oishi opened his mouth, but Kaze, whom Saeki had previously thought had forgotten all about them, cut in first. "We're not allowed to tell you," she said sharply. "That falls under the 'confidential' catetory."

He smirked slightly. "But you said I knew so much already," he threw her earlier words back at her. "You even told me your name."

She merely sighed conscendingly down at him. "And when_ever_ did you take it into your head to assume that 'Kaze' is really my name?"

Saeki started to ask why she would lie about something like her name, but caught himself just in time._ Secret agent, code names, oh, right_.

Then, the door opened.

A tall brunette strode in, light glancing off his small, gold rimmed glasses. And of course, no one who had been remotely in touch with the tennis hub a few years ago could mistaken this person for anyone but--

"_Tezuka_," Saeki acknowledged in surprise.

The legend of high school tennis peered down, scrutinizing him. "A new recruit, Kaze?"

"Nope. Civilian," she answered heavily. "Bane brought him back."

Tezuka's face contorted slightly on hearing this. "What are you doing standing there, then? Activate code--"

"No."

All eyes were drawn to the door as it opened once again. Kurobane had returned, and another man followed him into the room.

"Kawamura," Tezuka addressed the second to enter, ignoring Kurobane. "Please explain this. Your subbordinate has, strictly speaking, committed treason by introducing a non-member to the headquarters of--"

"Relax, Tezuka," the one called Kawamura said soothingly. He had soft brown hair, long sideburns and looked the timid, tender-hearted type. Not the usual image of an agent at all. "This isn't a non-member."

Seigaku's former captain arched a brow, then rounded on the only female in the vicincy. "Kaze? Did you intentionally mean to--"

"It was to my best knowledge, Tezuka," she said defensively. "I wish you'd stop assuming every few minutes that someone's trying to sell us out."

"Caution is of the highest priority in our occupation," he reminded her stonily before turning back to Kawamura and Kurobane. "You were saying?"

"Saeki Kojiroh isn't a non-member." This time it was Kurobane who spoke up. "He is now officially a Combat, pending training."

Tezuka's brow went even higher. "Kawamura? Do you confirm this?"

"Yes," the man in question replied gently. "Saeki is the newest member of the Network."

And Saeki, still on the ground while Oishi, unconcerned by all else around him, bound his wound, forgot to breathe as everyone's eyes caught his, one after another.

"Um..." He wondered if he was supposed to give a speech or something. "Huh?"

Everybody who was used to the practice of rolling their eyes did so, save for Kaze, who simly took another mouthful of water and shook her head, giving a little snort. "_Rookies_."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm trying, I'm trying! The characters are getting introduced at the fastest rate I can manage. Please be patient.**


	3. First Mission

**TENIPURI AGENTS: RISING ROOKIE**

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_Chapter Three - **First Mission**_

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"But—but you can't just—" Saeki sputtered, trotting along in Kurobane's wake anxiously. "You can't just _say_ I'm recruited, and then I am—"

"You think?" Taking a paper cup from a counter in the hallway, his friend—and apparently new colleague—poured out some water from a jug and held it out. "Drink it; you've lost enough fluids."

Distractedly taking the cup, Saeki hurried to follow as Kurobane briskly set off again. "But you can't _do_ this! I mean, it's not that I don't want to help, but you really can't _force_—"

"Yeah?" Kurobane turned to face him. "Actually, I can."

Presented with such an intricate and well thought out argument, Saeki was momentarily at loss for words. "But—but…"

"As of now, you've heard so much about the Network that you can't possibly forget. You've seen at least five of our agents and know our names, identities, whatever. Dammit, Sae, you've been in our _headquarters_ for Kami's sake! We have less choice than you do in this."

Saeki fell silent, frowning unhappily. Absently he gulped down the water in the cup still in his hands. It wasn't that he didn't want to work alongside Kurobane or his acquaintances from Seigaku—well, Kaze was very trying, but he was sure eventually they'd learn to get along—and it wasn't that he didn't understand the situation; for the sake of secrecy, these people were probably willing to kill. Heck, if what they said was to be trusted, there was someone out there after his blood anyway. Kurobane and the others were most likely doing him a favor, letting him join them instead of just leaving him for dead or disposing of him themselves the easy way.

But that was just it. He couldn't see himself living like that, doing those kinds of things, however hard he tried. He could not see himself as the hardhearted agent he was now expected to be.

If he had been Shishido, faced with a possible enemy who was making an escape, could he have just—just whipped out his gun like that and used it like it didn't matter?

The answer was 'no', pure and simple. No amount of training would be able to change that.

"I'm sorry, Sae."

Saeki looked up to see Kurobane watching him.

"It's hard at first, yeah." Unrepentant, he was, and yet sincerity laced his words as well. "But it's not your choice now. Not your fault either," he assured before Saeki could interrupt. "Things like this happen. All the time. When you've been here as long as I have, this won't seem like such a big deal."

"Is that supposed to be some sort of consolidation?" Saeki muttered disbelievingly.

Kurobane said nothing at first. It was a little strange to see him so serious. "Yes. It kind of is, really."

And Saeki noted, with a looming feeling of uncertainty, that this was not the face of the playful, easygoing Harukaze Kurobane he had known from school.

Experience—the Network?—had altered him so much.

"Come on."

Saeki started walking again without a word.

Kurobane led him into another small office at the end of the corridor. "This is where I work, when I'm not on a mission."

At the doorway, Saeki stopped and gave the room a once over. It was…just like an ordinary office. There was a desk, messy with paper and files, pens and pencils of all sorts. A computer. A large windows with white blinds. A blue swiveling chair. All in all, there was absolutely nothing that indicated this was the workplace of a dangerous secret agent.

"We have a cover-up company," Kurobane explained, as though expecting questions. "Atobe Wholesales Limited is our official name."

"Atobe?"

Kurobane grinned ruefully. "Yeah, Atobe. That self-important diva from Hyotei. I don't think any of us would have agreed to 'work' for him, even if it's just smokescreen, if we'd had any other alternative. The guy hasn't changed much since high school; still throwing his weight around. But he has funds…" He shrugged helplessly. Sitting down at his desk, he motioned for Saeki to take a seat opposite him. "Now, about your absorption into the Network. You'll have to take a job here. Otherwise people will eventually start to suspect. You won't really be doing stuff for a wholesales company, of course."

Saeki looked on as Kurobane rummaged in a drawer. "As for your exact post…you haven't had a job before, so we can't put you anywhere high up like in the management class or anything," he warned.

Saeki nodded.

"And you're a Creative Wring major…hm…"

Fidgeting uneasily, Saeki wished his insides wouldn't squirm so. _Like I knew when I signed up for the course that someone would need it to give me a cover-up job when I became a secret agent in an organization that doesn't officially exist. _

"Well…tell you what. Both your English and Japanese is fairly fluent. We'll put down as our translator. How about that?"

Seeing as it was just in name, Saeki didn't really mind what he was assigned to. "What would that involve, in theory?"

"Translation, of course. We're part of a large corporation that does a lot of business overseas. America and Europe, the usual. If anyone asks, you're the one who converts our Japanese notices and contracts to English documents."

"Got that."

"Good." Kurobane slipped a sheet of paper out of a folder. "Sign this. When you get home, say that you returned a bag left in the shop you were in to its owner, me. I am your old teammate, whom out of concern asked how you're holding up, and on hearing that you aren't working yet, brought you here for an interview for this translator post. You were hired and will start right away."

"Right." Saeki put down his signature on the light indicated on the contract.

"Done." Kurobane whisked the paper away. "Oh, and I'm your direct supervisor. Head of the Public Relations department."

"Yes, sir!"

His 'supervisor' smiled. "Though, in reality, you'll soon me my equal—a Combat. We'll have to shape you up some, but your physical state and fighting abilities aren't that bad, so it shouldn't take long before you can report for active duty."

At the mention of this, Saeki sobered. He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll manage. Somehow."

"Excellent. Welcome to the Network, Agent Jaguar-fourteen."

"Jaguar-fourteen?" Saeki repeated in surprise. "Isn't it supposed to be something like E-eight-four-one?"

Kurobane rolled his eyes. "That's Redstab's system. We're more creative. And cooler."

Saeki grinned.

"Now that we've got that over with—oh?" Kurobane glanced at the screen of his computer. "I see." He turned back to Saeki. "Agent Jaguar-fourteen! Prepare for your first mission."

The new Network member's eyes grew wide. "_Now?_"

"Well…it doesn't strictly matter if it's five minutes later, but time is money, Agent. So, yeah, now."

"Um…yes, sir…?"

Kurobane sighed. "You're new; I'll cut you some slack. Anyway, this is a Class One mission. Nothing too strenuous. And you should have taken in enough biomass to replenish the lost blood."

"You mean the water?"

'What did you expect, red wine?"

"…Not really."

"Well, let's continue. You are to collect the mail from Agent Falcon-eighty-nine at the location on this card." Kurobane handed over said card. "Memorize it and head out."

Not that Saeki was incapable of reciting a simple address, but… "Why memorize?"

"You can't have the card with you. Security," the more senior Combat explained vaguely. Then, he reached into another drawer. "Here, take these with you. You might need them."

'Them' referred to a sort of collapsible stick hinged together at three places, and something that resembled a grenade.

Saeki looked at the curious items, and then looked at Kurobane. "I thought you just said get the mail?"

"I did. That—" he pointed at the stick "—is the only weapon I think it's safe to let you have. I'd give you a gun, but you wouldn't know how to use it. You'd end up shooting yourself in the head or something. If you need it, reconstruct the rod at the joints and slot one end into the other. The signal bomb doesn't really hurt anyone, but it sends up…well, if you're surrounded by over five anti-Network agents and have over ten innocents in the immediate area, pull the pin and stand clear. We'll send someone over as backup."

Nodding, Saeki pocketed the two tools. "So if I'm in trouble, I use this bomb thing—"

"Only if there are at least five opponents and ten random bystanders around," Kurobane repeated firmly.

"Well…" Saeki was beginning to have a few doubts. "So if it's just me that's about to get killed…"

"Then you're on your own," came the cheerful reply. "But I keep forgetting you're a rookie. I'll cut down the minimum required number of enemies to four, just this once. All right with that?"

Well.

Saeki supposed, as he exited the building onto the street, that dying was an occupational hazard of being a secret agent. To be avoided, obviously, but not to be taken as any kind of surprise.

His only comfort was that this time, at least, he wasn't being sent into outright battle and therefore ran a lower chance of ending up dead.

He was only out to get the mail, after all.

With that reassuring thought in mind, he set off towards the address Kurobane had supplied.

Before long, he was back in a neighborhood that, much to his amusement and dismay—a fiddly and awkward combination—was a fifteen minute walk from home. If he had wanted, he could probably have slipped back to his house and said hello to his parents.

_Yeah, sorry, dad, I couldn't get your coffee. Why? See, this guy mixed me up with this secret agent and left me a bag with enough money to pay a lifetime's rent. But I didn't know, thought it was an accident, so I went after him and got attacked by these other agents who stuck a gun in my face. No, no, I'm all right. I was only shot a little bit. Besides, they fixed me up afterwards and recruited me into their Network to boot. I'm on my first mission, to get their mail. _

He couldn't imagine that going down awfully well with either his mom or his dad.

As it was, they were probably wondering why he hadn't come back from his trip to the store. He should have called them from his 'company'. He'd do it when he got back with the post. For now, he waited.

Pretending to be doing nothing in particular, he sidled over to one of the buildings closest to the deserted crossroad. Leaning against the wall, he made himself comfortable, preparing for a long spell of boredom. Nobody had said anything about exactly _when_ this agent 'postman' would show up.

Pity. He knew this neighborhood so well that there wasn't anything interesting to look at anymore. The immediate area aside, he practically knew all the alleys and streets around. He could even lock down the exact path which his contact would have to take to get here—

"Jaguar-fourteen?"

Saeki jumped about a foot high before leaping backwards to put some distance between him and the voice that had suddenly spoken right into his ear.

Okay, so maybe he didn't know these streets as well as he thought.

Having successfully materialized out of thin air and scared Saeki into a near heart attack, the materialized-out-of-thin-air redhead now proceeded to rebuke him, Saeki, for allowing himself to be scared into a near heart attack by not expecting him, the newcomer, to materialize out of thin air.

There seemed to be some unreasonableness about this, but Saeki was too preoccupied to point that out. "Kikumaru Eiji?"

"Nya!" Eiji squeaked in alarm. "I'm Agent Falcon-eighty-nine! No names!" he ordered in an exaggerated whisper, waving his arms about for good measure. Then, with abrupt solemnity, he asked, "Who sent you to meet me?"

"Er," Saeki responded, feeling rather wrong-footed by his old opponent's drastic change in demeanor. "…Bane? Kurobane?"

Eiji shook his head violently. "His code name."

"Um…" He racked his brains, but Saeki couldn't remember having been told Kurobane's code name. "Sorry, I don't know…he didn't tell me."

"CORRECT!"

Saeki jumped again.

"Nya, now I know that it's really you," Eiji said triumphantly, taking out a package—which had, naturally, materialized from thin air—and handed it to Saeki. "Take care of it, nya!"

"I will," Saeki promised, tucking the mail under his arm. "And when you asked about Bane's code name? Was that a password of some sort?"

"Yes," the former acrobatic player nodded earnestly.

"…And the right answer was that I didn't know?"

"Yes."

"Right." Well, it was one of the less surprising things he had come across that day. Something he could accept with relative ease. He was, as this indicated, adapting marvelously to this new role as an agent for the Network.

Which kind of worried him, in a way.

Saying goodbye to Eiji—who made his exit, predictably, by vanishing into thin air—Saeki picked up his pace and started to make his way back to the headquarters, pleased that the mission had gone so smoothly. Although, he was slightly disappointed not to have been given a chance to break out that three piece stick Kurobane had lent him…

A roar issued from somewhere behind him.

Whipping around, Saeki's attention at once zeroed in on the big, beefy fellow charging straight for him. It was kind of hard not to, seeing as the guy was bellowing like an angry bull, brandishing a foot long knife and waving it around like a lunatic.

Turning to run in the opposite direction, the agent spotted four other similar thugs closing in, all bearing weapons and all looking like he'd done them a great personal wrong.

_Oh jeez_. Saeki drew out and assembled his rod. _Me and my stupid 'although's'_.

And then the five were upon him.

Barely settled into the familiar kendo stance, Saeki flashed his weapon, knocking an assortment of sharp things high, batting them out of the way as he turned to the attackers themselves.

First, he opted for an old fashioned 'bonk on the head'. The first guy dropped with a red mark on his temple.

_One down, four to go._

Repeating the backward thrusting movement he had used on Kaze earlier, he rendered another out of action for a few seconds, buying enough time to sideswipe a third assailant, knocking him out by a hit to the pressure point behind his neck.

Just in time to duck a flashing blade which someone had recovered, he took advantage of his position low to the ground and swung at the person's legs, hitting a spot behind the knees. His opponent buckled and fell. A jab of the elbow to the side of his skull caused him to black out as well.

The remaining two men now circled him, grappling at the ground and finding knives. Breathing heavily, Saeki narrowed his gaze on each, trying to keep them both in front of him, rod at the ready.

They lunged. Rearranging his grip, Saeki held the stick parallel to the ground like a bar and simply pushed forwards, and held still. The momentum of the attackers brought their foreheads smashing into the solid rod, stunning them.

Wasting no time, Saeki took off at a fast sprint, hanging on to his package—which he had miraculously not dropped during the fray—by his fingertips. The thugs would follow, he knew, but by then he would be home free. Hopefully.

Hurdling, relieved, for a bus stop—though of course it was the arriving bus that he was interested in—he jumped on board and sank into a chair, eyes still wide with tension. Groaning, he sank back into his seat, shuddering as spasms of nervous energy pumped through him.

Now he thought he had an idea of why he'd been given weapons for a mission to just 'get the mail'.

"You could have said something!" he berated Kurobane once he was back in his friend's office.

Said friend sighed. "I keep forgetting how much you don't know. Network mail, you know... Classified information that Redstab among others would like to get their hands on. I guess I should have warned…"

"YOU THINK?"

"Well, I thought it was kind of obvious that there'd be some complications," Kurobane frowned defensively. "Seeing as it was a Class One mission and all."

"You call that a Class _One_?" Saeki exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Of course." He said it like it was perfectly logical. "If you just had to go pick something up, we wouldn't name it a mission at all. Too easy and risk-free."

There was nothing Saeki could think to say about that.

"Well, if you're done letting off steam," Kurobane said more kindly, "There's something else we have to take care of soon."

Collapsing into a chair, Saeki merely nodded in acknowledgement.

"You need to meet up with your partner."

"Partner?" Saeki repeated wearily.

"Yeah. Every Agent has one. Shishido's with Kaze, I'm with Oshitari Yuushi—I still can't figure out what the higher-ups are punishing me for—and you've just been assigned yours."

"Who?"

"You'll see," came the ominous reply.


	4. Psychotic New Partner

**TENIPURI AGENTS: RISING ROOKIE**

* * *

_Chapter Four - **Psychotic New Partner**_

* * *

"Cobra-zero-two?" Kaze blanched, startled, before letting out an amused chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Saeki demanded as he walked abreast with his colleague down the corridor. He reckoned he should try to sound more intimidating, but his urge to snap a reply was overruled by his need for concrete information.

And Kaze definitely looked like she had information.

"It's…" Her smirk faded. "You aren't going to get it, but I can't believe they're putting someone entirely new to the Network with Cobra."

"…What's wrong with that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing much. It's just that this Cobra-zero-two has a turnover rate of partners that's simply ridiculous. They say he's incredibly hard to deal with. I was just wondering why anyone thought _you'd_ handle him better."

Affronted—he was a _doubles_ player after all; any jab at his cooperation abilities _had_ to be wildly off the mark—Saeki retorted, "Why not me? They wouldn't have paired us up if they thought I couldn't cope, would they?"

Kaze shrugged again. "Maybe. Maybe not. Me, I just thought they were taking advantage of your rookie innocence. Well, ignorance, more like. They probably figured that a lack of prior knowledge on Cobra would take away some of the initial apprehension."

"Meaning?"

"You're less likely to come crying to them begging for a transfer after the first day of partnership like everyone else does."

"Oh."

This day was getting better and better, Saeki thought dryly. He had gone from unemployed college graduate to a fully fledged involuntary Network Agent within a matter of hours, got sent on a perilous mail-collecting mission involving an appearing/disappearing mailman, and was now going to meet this mysterious partner who sent hardened secret agents running for the hills.

Brilliant.

"Do you have any…specifics on what this Cobra-zero-two…_does_…to his partners?" he asked, not with a little nervousness.

"Of course," Kaze said brightly, making him perk up hopefully, "But I wouldn't want to spoil the fun. For him, I mean."

Saeki groaned. Evidently she wasn't going to go volunteer any assistance. Heck, she was going out of her way _not_ to assist him. It looked like this—this—_sadist_ of a girl had less than the minimal incentive to help him smooth over his transition into the Network. "The world hates me."

Kaze did not sympathize. "Ah, don't be so pessimistic." Pushing ajar the door to yet another office, she waved him inside. "If you're entertaining enough, Cobra will like you very much."

Somehow, Saeki couldn't really see that to be a _good_ thing.

"Well, if you won't tell me what disaster I'm going to be hit by, could you at least drop an hint and tell him to lay off?" Despite knowing that it was pointless, he made another attempt to gain her alliance. He got the feeling he would soon be making enough enemies without of the Network to need any within it. "Unlike _you_, I wasn't drilled in survival skills in the Gobi Desert."

She remained unfazed. "Hey, I'm not his supervisor. He's not even in my department. And Bane seems to have so much faith in you; otherwise he wouldn't have let you join up. I doubt you'd actually _die_. By the way, I was trained in the Sahara, not the Gobi Desert."

Saeki threw up his arms. "Oh, then seeing as I can end up in any shape Cobra puts me into as long as I don't _die_, then why don't you just get hold of him now and tell him to go ahead with his '_fun_'?"

"As you're so eager to help him kill time, I will. In fact, I'll call him for you right now." Sitting down behind her desk, Kaze picked up her phone and punched in a few numbers rapidly. Glaring at her incredulously, Saeki threw himself down in the chair opposite her.

"Operator? This is Agent Saber-twenty-one requesting a secure phone line to the Kantou Branch." Flipping her ponytail out of the way, Kaze spoke bureaucratically into the phone. After a pause, she whipped out a notepad and pen. "Line Tango-Network-twenty-five. Thank you."

Saeki watched as she dialed in a new set of numbers. "What's a secure phone line?" he asked while she inputted the figures, curiosity overcoming his annoyance with her.

"Something we use so that our calls can't be tracked, taped or intercepted in any way," she answered distractedly. "Your partner will explain the details."

The two were silent as the faint buzzing of a ringing phone issued from the receiver.

_"Hello?"_

Saeki listened to the guttural, male voice echoing out into the room. It sounded distorted somehow, like the speaker was changing the wavelengths of his words so that they came out differently at their end. He wondered if Kaze was doing the same thing.

"Agent Cobra-zero-two?"

_"Speaking."_

"This is Saber-twenty-one."

_"Ah, Kaze,"_ Cobra's tone changed at once. _"Calling me out for a dinner date?"_

"You wish. New partner," the female agent deadpanned. "You know that."

_"A guy can dream, can't he?"_ the male voice spoke playfully. _"So anyway, who is this new partner?"_

"Some rookie," Kaze responded indifferently. "Just joined the Network today, in fact." She glanced at Saeki, who was hanging on to every word anxiously. She seemed to take pity on him at last. "So don't use explosives like you did with the last one. We need him back alive."

She grinned when, _most_ unfortunately, the warning did nothing to pacify Saeki's uptight nerves.

_"I'll try to bear that in mind."_

"I'll send him over to you, say, tomorrow, then," she concluded crisply.

_"All right. Fine with me. So, no dinner date?"_

"No dinner date," Kaze confirmed before hanging up. "Okay, Saeki—"

"Explosives?"

She arched a brow. "It's a general term. Cobra's our weapons specialist, see."

Predictably, that did nothing to comfort him.

* * *

In a dimly lit room within the Kantou Agent Branch, an individual gleefully polished his latest invention, slipping on the silencer to his Instant Effect Tranquilizer Gun.

"We're going to have someone _new_ to play with today," he told the firearm delightedly.

* * *

"The train is about to depart. Please mind the door." _Beep beep beep beep beep beep_.

Early the next morning, Saeki set off for the city of Tokyo, intent on meeting with Cobra-zero-two. He was pretty tired; he hadn't had much sleep—this new turn of events was hard to digest all at once. Besides, he'd had to stay up and listen to his mother gush about how _talented_ he was, how she'd _always_ known that he would be sought after in the job market.

She'd complained about his 'unconstructive and unattractive' college major holding him back just a week ago.

The hypocrite.

Saeki had let it slide. Parental opposition wasn't exactly new to him. First, it had been tennis—"How will you _ever_ find time for your school work?"—and then when he had finally given in and turned his focus to academics, his choice in subjects.

Good thing everyone was now under the false impression that he had secured a respectable, well paid place in an internationally recognized wholesales company.

_An agent? Are you out of your_ mind_? Kojiroh, think of the _danger_ you'll be in! Think of how your father and I will_ worry_!_

Just imagining it made him grind his teeth loudly.

_I can't help it_, he argued with her in his head. _Face it, it's either join them or find a quiet place and dig a grave. I think I prefer things this way, thank you very much_.

Saeki imagined a scenario in which he'd actually say this, and dwelt upon the details of the scene until he noticed a couple of people staring at him rather warily. Finally taking note of his pursed lips and glare, he wiped his resentment off his face, staring blankly back at them.

They looked away.

Fortunately, the train reached his prearranged rendezvous area just then, allowing him to escape out onto the platform and away from the awkwardness. Hitching his bag more securely onto his shoulder, he left the station and walked out into the semi-familiar place where he had once come to play tennis.

_This is somewhere near Fuji's home, isn't it?_

Mentally revising the address he had once again had to learn by heart, he headed swiftly down the sidewalk next to a busy roadway. According to Kaze's instructions, he was to walk a little way downtown to the Kantou Branch's hidden location.

Grunting, he gave his bag yet another heave. It was weighed down with the numerous weapons the female Recon-raider had heaped onto him. Yesterday, he had secretly smiled at the thought that despite her outward lack of concern regarding his potential to stay in one piece, she made sure he was properly equipped to deal with any unexpected crises that might arise. Like psychotic new partners playing marbles using bombs or whatever else abnormality Cobra was fond of.

Now he wondered whether she'd given him all this stuff simply for the pleasure of making him lug it all around.

He bet she and Cobra were having a good laugh about it right that moment.

"The world hates me," he muttered darkly once again, transferring his messenger bag to the other shoulder.

After another half hour's walk—so apparently this was Kaze's idea of '_a little way_ downtown'—he finally neared his destination. It was a very messy junction of roads, overpasses upon overpasses and stairways winding through to no place in particular. Just finding a place to cross the street was a navigational challenge in and of itself.

Losing his patience, Saeki vaulted a railing and crossed a highway during a split second stem in traffic, hoisting himself and his burden over another metal fence and into what looked like a large park. Lost, he wandered around for a while until chancing upon the main entrance, over which a stone arch proudly presented 'Tokyo Botanical Garden'. Then, following the directions Kaze had hammered into him, he moved decisively along the cobblestone paths to a secluded corner where a fountain bubbled merrily.

There, he halted to gazed skeptically at the flowing water, but rolled up a sleeve and plunged a hand all the way to the cold basin bottom.

_Press the penny_, Kaze had said.

Feeling rather stupid and wet to the elbow, he nonetheless gave the aforementioned coin an experimental push.

A grinding noise was emitted from his left and a portion of the manmade rock complimenting the fountain slid back out of view, leaving a slit just wide and tall enough for him to slip through, dragging his bag after him. Once he was fully inside, he groped at the wall and pulled a lever, closing the 'door' again.

Wiping his numb and chilled hand and arm on his jeans, he inched along the suffocating 'hallway' leading deeper into what he could only assume to be the most secret and most absurd hideout the Network had ever come up with.

Seriously, what was wrong with a basement somewhere in a place actually meant for human occupation, anyway?

But then again, these _were_ the same group of people that had mistaken a random civilian for a dangerous secret agent…

Luckily, the path widened a few feet into the pitch black darkness. Relieved, Saeki squeezed out into what seemed to be a large cavern.

Where explosions promptly erupted from all sides.

Yelping in alarm, he leapt away from the entrance, clumsily somersaulting under the golden yellow sparks. Thrusting a hand into his bag, he wrenched out a bullet proof vest and a helmet, scrambling into them. "Hey! Kaze said no explosives!" he yelled out to anyone listening in the meantime.

Finally, grabbing his collapsible rod, he jumped to his feet to the sound of small projectile objects piercing the air.

_Not bullets. Too slow._ Channeling his concentration into pinpointing the direction from which they came from he spun his rod in a circle in front of him, deflecting the oncoming—darts?

That was…unusual, to say the least.

Picking one up, he examined it under the weak brightness of the last glowing embers from the explosions.

No, not just regular darts. A few drops of liquid dribbled out from the sharp end.

_Poison? _

His blood ran cold as he dropped the thing hurriedly. His vest would not help if these were long enough to pierce through it. Tightening his grip on his makeshift staff, he heightened his hearing, ready to twirl the rod again should more darts appear.

No wonder this Cobra-zero-two scared away so many partners, he thought. The reasons were obvious.

But no more airborne attacks came. Instead, he felt just the slightest rumbling and quaking under his feet. Snatching up his bag, he sprang out of the way as clods of earth were flung into the air by the thick poles that shot out of the ground.

Before he had even landed properly, he had taken out a Signal Cannon and fired three shots at the cave ceiling.

Globes of slowly diminishing light hung high above his head, illuminating his immediate surroundings.

Now that he could see properly, he noticed that the chamber was much more refined than he had expected. The walls were smooth, forming a perfect dome. Archways were evenly spaced along the edge of the place, each over a separate tunnel. But he was in no mood to admire the architecture. Scanning every inch of rocky surface, he waited for the next offensive move to manifest itself.

"I see Kaze was wrong."

The voice was too soft to echo about the closed interior, and sounded a bit breathy, but carried perfectly clearly to Saeki's alert ears. _My partner's voice_, Saeki realized. _My partner's_ real_ voice_.

"She must have made a mistake. You can't possibly be a complete novice. You dodged everything too well."

"Trained reflexes," Saeki called out tersely, not letting his guard down. "I used to play tennis."

"I know," came the quiet reply.

"Did Kurobane brief you on me?"

"No."

"So you checked my files. Bane let slip your Network has them."

"Again, no. And as of now, it should be _our_ Network."

Near the end of the sentence, the voice…solidified, and Saeki spun around as a light footstep sounded from behind him.

A short brunette, dressed casually in a sweater and slacks came into view. Pale skin testified to how little time he spent in the sun, and thin lips curled into a warm smile.

"Hello, Saeki. I see we're going to have a lot of fun together shortly."

"When you're not trying to _murder_ me," Saeki grumbled good-naturedly, sporting a grin.

Fuji Syusuke chuckled happily.


	5. Alarm Tops

**TENIPURI AGENTS: RISING ROOKIE**

* * *

_Chapter Five - **Alarm Tops**_

* * *

"…And the next thing I know, Bane's sent me out on a mission already!" Saeki exclaimed loudly, venting in exasperation. "I mean, no offence, but your Network is _insane_!"

Fuji smiled sympathetically. "Yes, they do seem to overreach themselves sometimes."

"I'll say!"

They were climbing a spiral staircase with exceptionally wide railings, lit by the same yellowish lamps as the underground tunnel Saeki had run the length of the day before. These stairs apparently connected from the underground cave to Fuji's apartment. All Network Agents, Saeki was told, were provided their own residences. It was so that any family wouldn't be in the way when a sudden mission came up.

"Look on the bright side, Sae," Fuji suggested gently. "You're not the only one who has been forced to join the Network due to some unfortunate accident."

"Who else, then? You?" Saeki asked, disbelieving.

"No," his brunette friend shook his head. "Someone I know. Kaze—I think you've met her?"

"Yeah, I have. Just my bad luck."

Fuji laughed. "She's not a bad person. Dependable."

"She's mean. You'd think, if she knows what it's like to be pushed into all this, she'd understand."

"Oh, she does," Seigaku's former tensai assured. "She empathizes very well."

Saeki snorted. "Then why doesn't she try to make it easier? I mean, I'm not even asking her to be nice. But she seems to _purposely_ try and trip me up, you know?"

At that moment, they reached a door—or at least what looked like an outline of a door in stone. A glowing electronic pad was fixed on the wall next to it. Fuji tapped out a certain sequence of numbers with slender fingers. Instantly, a rectangle slab of rock, which Saeki later found out to be disguised as a part of the wall, slid to one side, allowing them entrance into the apartment beyond.

"Have a seat," Fuji gestured at the small leather sofa in front of a television set by glass doors leading to the porch. "Apple juice?"

"Thanks," Saeki accepted the offered drink. "What are you having?" He jerked his head towards the…green…blue…purple…liquid inside Fuji's glass.

"It's Inui's Vegetable Juice," his friend told him cheerily, taking a sip. "Inui is very kind; he makes this special mix just for me. It's called Inui's Nutrition-Fortified Avocado Mix Of Unclassified Substances. Would you like to try?"

Saeki, who had leaned away with a protective hand over his cup on hearing 'Inui', hastened to decline. He may have come from Rokkaku instead of Seigaku, but rumors of the data collector's infamous brews had not escaped his ears. His teammates, he knew for a fact, had a common consensus that the Japanese government had to be dysfunctional not to have named the dangerous stuff a weapon of mass destruction and a serious breach of national security.

"Ah, the good old days," Fuji sighed nostalgically. "After school tennis and vegetable juices…people dropping onto their faces screaming…"

Saeki discreetly scooted further away from the blissfully smiling brunette.

"You know, Kaze used to go to Seigaku too."

"Really?" Saeki thought over this new piece of information. Perhaps that was where she had inherited her sadistic tendencies? "I guess that makes sense. It sure explains why you two seem to be so friendly."

"Actually, we only got on speaking terms after she joined the Network," Fuji clarified. "I knew her by sight only, at school. She wasn't very noticeable back then. A quiet girl with average grades. Not very into sports, either."

"So…what happened to her?" Saeki couldn't imagine why someone so undistinguished could run afoul of the Network. Mild, young girls hardly chased unknown men into dark alleys. "How come she had to join the Network?"

"That's for her to tell you," Fuji told him vaguely. "All I can say on the matter is that her absorption wasn't pleasant for her at all. As I said, she had no prominent talents or abilities. You have tennis training and kendo to back you as a Combat. She had no such advantage. Not good enough an actor to be in Intelligence and Infiltration. Not good enough a fighter to be a Combat. Finally they made her a Recon-raider just because she doesn't attract much attention." Fuji drank slowly, licking his lips. The fluid in his glass sloshed around, creating swirls of dark, unnatural colors like the many 'unclassified substances' added into it. "She is very vain of having made it thus far despite her lack of natural flair," he said thoughtfully after a pause. "She also takes her suffering in the early years very much to heart."

"And that's why she hates me so much?" Saeki caught on, albeit dubiously. "Because she doesn't think it would be fair if I had it too easy?"

"Something along those lines," Fuji allowed. "She doesn't hate you, exactly. Perhaps she's bitter about how well you've been doing even without any training. Maybe she's just the smallest bit jealous."

"Jealous…?" Saeki definitely hadn't seen things in this light before; certainly he hadn't really considered _why_ the female Recon-raider seemed to dislike him with a vengeance. Nor had he known enough about her to come up with any theories. But he was distracted from his pondering almost at once. "Er, Fuji? Your phone is ringing?"

"What did you—? Oh—" The tensai looked over his shoulder, evidently just coming round from being deep in thought, got up and strode over to the--to all appearances--normal desk phone. "Hello?"

_"Agent Cobra-zero-two?"_

"Yes?"

_"This is Agent Saber-twenty-one."_

Fuji's smile grew wider. "What's up, Kaze? Couldn't resist the urge to have lunch with me?"

A long-suffering sigh filled the room. _"I just wanted to know if your partner has made contact with you yet,"_ she said, clearly through grinding teeth.

"Oh, you mean Saeki? Agent Jaguar-fourteen? Yeah, he arrived just a while ago. Remind me to thank Takamura for pairing me up with my old friend. We should work together just fine."

Kaze answered, quite taken aback, _"You knew him beforehand? I didn't know that. Unless…wait…come to think of it, I do remember you telling me about a Saeki Kojiroh at some point…"_

Saeki sat up hopefully. Would she cut the hostilities towards him, now that she knew he was a friend of Fuji's, whom she was so fond of despite her exaggerated—though good-natured—impatience with him and his dates?

_"…Well, tell the brat he has to come back to the headquarters some time today or tomorrow. The details of his Combat training have been confirmed. If he isn't notified in time he'll be causing a hell lot of trouble for the rest of us."_

Saeki slumped in his seat. Nope. She wasn't getting any nicer.

Giving his partner a soothing look, Fuji promised that he would do as Kaze asked and said his good-byes. "She's friendlier once you've known her for a while," he reassured as he hung up.

"I can hardly wait," Saeki groaned, meaning every word. Then, he remembered something that again involved both the girl and a phone. "Hey, last time when she called you, she used a…secure line. How does that work?"

"Well, you know that when we use these cordless telephones, what we hear and say is transmitted by signals using satellite dishes from location to location?"

Saeki nodded.

"To put it in a nutshell, there are a couple of ways to eavesdrop on conversations by phone, if you can gain access to the airborne signals, or the telephone itself. That's kind of bad for agents in particular, since mission specifics and other confidential information is conveyed this way. So what happens, is when an Agent from one Branch has to call another Branch, they ask for a secure line, which is basically a private satellite system protected by the Network. The signal frequencies we use differ from time to time and the signals themselves are more heavily encoded. That way, the chances of being overheard are smaller."

"Might be useful," Saeki remarked. "Say, if you're under attack from…what, Redstab agents or something? Then you'd just call—"

"Oh, no," Fuji corrected. "Well, as Bane told you, if it's just you risking your life then you generally aren't supposed to call for assistance in that way. If you must ask for help, that's what we have signal grenades for. But when it's a whole Branch under assault, we use Alarm Tops."

The gadgets the Network used, Saeki reflected, could fill up several dictionaries. And he hadn't even seen a tenth of them, he bet. "Alarm Tops?"

"Come here." Fuji beckoned him forwards. Saeki followed him into what looked like a perfectly ordinary bedroom

"Alarm Tops," the weapons specialist pointed.

Saeki looked, and laughed. "_Those_ are what you use for D-day S.O.S. signals?" He thought that out of all the peculiar systems these agents used, the Tops—literally little tops in all shapes and sizes—were definitely the wackiest. "What do they do when someone calls for help? Spin?"

"Exactly," Fuji said earnestly. "Each top represents a different Branch. When a Branch calls, they activate our space satellite, which sends out signals to all tops sensitive to that particular frequency. It's as foolproof as we have, since neither Redstab or any other anti-Network organizations know about it. They wouldn't know how to disable it if they wanted to plan an ambush."

"And plus, it makes a tasteful collection. Very stylish," Saeki joked.

Fuji smiled. "Well, that too."

Shedding his lighthearted manner, Saeki sighed. "You're going to have to familiarize me with all this Network stuff. I mean, Kaze gave me a truckload of 'basic gear' and I don't even know what half of it _is_."

Undaunted, Fuji chuckled amusedly. "It won't be a problem. You'll get used to it in no time." He glanced around the house. "Look, there. See the VCR? That's our equivalent of a fax machine."

Walking over to the television set, Saeki circled the device, poking at the flap for slotting in videotapes. He assumed that was where the paper came out. "Okay, I could live with that. Do you have a VCR, then?"

"Yes," Fuji said brightly. "It's that thing that looks like a fax machine."

Again, Saeki sighed.

"We are insane, yes, I am aware," Fuji said emphatically.

"No worries," Saeki told him heavily, straightening up from where he had been squatting, suspiciously prodding a desk lamp (it turned out to be a mini-shield plus tranquilizer dart shooter). "If I have to live with this stuff every day, I'll stop freaking out about the weirdness after a week or so. You said I'll have to stay in one of these…Agent apartments?"

"Yep."

"So…no problem, then." Saeki smiled in a faint attempt at bravado. He knew he wasn't being convincing, but Fuji didn't say anything about it.

"Saa, why don't we go back to the headquarters? You need to retrieve your training details and I can introduce you to the more complicated aspects of Network machinery and so on." There was an added warmth to the brunette's smile that Saeki was sure had nothing to do with the guy's love for visiting the headquarters.

"Sounds good," he replied in a lighter tone. Fuji's unspoken support was not lost on him. "If we hurry, we can catch the next train."

Nodding, Fuji hurried to slip on his shoes and find his wallet. Having everything he needed packed in his bag already, Saeki headed directly to the doorway, passing the kitchen, a small bathroom and the bedroom.

Then, he backtracked to the bedroom.

"Fuji?"

"Mm?"

"Remember what you said about the Alarm Tops spinning when one of the Network Branches is in trouble?"

"Yes, what about it?"

Saeki lifted a hand and pointed. "Do you mean like that?"

* * *

"Kantou, Tokyo Branch, yes, we're heading over right now." Fuji flipped the mobile phone shut with refined crispness, slipping the device back into its holster in a smooth, professional manner.

Saeki wondered how much of that cool was Network training, and how much was actual calm.

"Saeki? Put your bulletproof vest back on." Sharp, decisive. Purposeful, yet detached. Very becoming of an experienced secret agent about to take part in a dangerous mission.

Very unbecoming of Fuji himself.

Scrambling into the vest, Saeki said hesitantly as his partner made to return to the sitting room after donning a complete emergency weapons belt stashed under the sofa, "Uh, isn't the door the other way?"

"We can't go by open streets," Fuji informed him evenly, fingers flying over another electronic pad on the same wall through which they'd come in. "If any Redstab agents have staked out this area--and they probably have--they'll see Network people coming out of their Agent apartments. Dead giveaway for the places that are still secure."

After that, there was much less talk and a lot more running as both young men disappeared through the hidden gateway. Saeki started to thunder down the spiral staircase, cursing how slow and clumsy he was on them--when Fuji whizzed right by, sliding gracefully on the railings.

Barring a moment wasted on an astonished pause, Saeki followed suit, suddenly realizing why these railings had been made so broad. The winding journey was smooth, though dizzying, leaving the world whirling about him as he finally hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Looking up, Fuji was already half way across the underground cave they had returned to, and by the time Saeki had gotten to his feet and recovered from the wooziness, the weapons specialist had shot into yet another tunnel leading away from the chasm.

Saeki struggled to keep up. Without the time or energy to waste calling out, he could but sprint on as fast as his legs would allow. Glimpsing his friend in the distance, he hurdled into the tunnel after Fuji.

Yellow walls, yellow ceiling, yellow lights. Saeki could now establish that yellow was the Network's official color, as far as underground passages were concerned. Most likely, he thought, it was all in aid of making each path identical to the others. If that were true, then they had done an exceptionally good job--had it not been for Fuji, Saeki would have been hopelessly lost a hundred feet into the labyrinth.

Eventually, his taller stature and longer limbs helped him shorten the gap between him and his partner, so that he was close enough to begin to distinguish the shifting shadows on the brunette's coat, flying out from behind him like a short cape.

Underneath that coat, an assortment of deadly weapons was concealed.

Never in his life had Saeki imagined a scenario in which his smiling childhood playmate would voluntarily turn himself into a walking arsenal.

"Sae?"

Saeki jumped. It wasn't Fuji's sudden call that had startled him. No, he had expected to be given orders and assigned duties at any moment. Instead, it was the saturated concern in the brunette's tone that caught him off balance. This sounded like Fuji Syusuke, he thought. Not the clipped leader and soldier the boy had been forced to become.

"Yeah?" He hoped his voice hadn't shook.

"I don't know what we'll see when we get there," Fuji admitted. "It might not be very nice."

"I know. Blood, gory…yeah." He sounded tougher than he felt.

"You say that now." There was a hint of anger in those words. "But when it's all in your face, up close and personal…Sae, it isn't that easy."

"I know," Saeki snapped back, temper flaring for no reason known to him. Why was Fuji patronizing him now? They guy had been the perfect, goal-orientated, emotionless secret agent just a minute ago.

"Saeki, listen. You're not trained yet. You can't do the same level of battle as the rest of us. You might come across enemy agents that can put you out of the picture before you even notice they're there--"

"I _know_," the rookie Combat snarled. What was Fuji getting at here? Why was he making him let out all the unwanted feelings Saeki thought he had subdued?

Was he _trying_ to bring back the fear?

"That's good to hear," Fuji said complacently. "It's essential that you don't walk into the line of fire thinking that you can handle every opponent coming your way."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Saeki growled. "Right now I'm having serious doubts as to whether I can handle _any_ opponent. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder why you bothered to bring me along, seeing as anyway can just waltz up and off me."

Immediately he knew he'd gone too far. His words had been harsh with undue bitterness and accusation. He expected Fuji to snap back or at least express some kind of displeasure. When it happened, Saeki promised himself, he would say whatever it took to pacify the other. Arguing among themselves was _not_ a good idea just before they were about to plunge into full out agent war.

So when Fuji turned his head, the simple smile on his partner's face almost halted Saeki in his steps.

"Easy now, Sae," Fuji conversed pleasantly. "All I'm saying is that there might be people you can't deal with on your own. That doesn't mean there isn't an entire Network behind to take down those you can't."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hm, now I'm not exactly sure what I said about the telephone lines is completely correct. I only have a very vague knowledge of it from Physics class and I wasn't paying attention. If you know something I got wrong, please feel free to inform me.**


End file.
